In the early 1700s Catholic missionaries living in what is
now Central Texas noticed that the small bands of nomadic people they called Apache, a name borrowed from a French word meaning ruffian, had suddenly
disappeared. The Apache were fierce
warriors, independent and not prone towards taking orders from any foreign
power which was precisely what the Europeans represented. When the Catholics asked other “peaceful
Indians” (meaning: They were not warriors.) the passive types said that a new group
had moved in and displaced the Apache.
Compared to the new group, the Apache were mild in spirit.
The story of colonization in Deep South Texas goes back to
the 1500s when the King of Spain divided sections of land called porciones to be settled by Spanish
colonizers. Mind you that the Spanish
king had never been to South Texas but being a fervent “Christian” took it upon
himself (as had his English and French cousins) to claim the land for himself
and his subjects and in the name of God.
So Europeans occupied the porciones
and then began encountering some of the most tenacious Native Americans
they had yet to face. By 1725 the Lipan
Apaches had been driven into the mountains and deserts of Coahuila and Chihuahua
south of the Big Bend Region, and the Comanche bands occupied most of the lands
of Central Texas and the Panhandle.
Throughout the 1800s parts of Texas dealt with attacks and
abductions linked to Comanche raids.
There are thousands of people of English, French and Spanish decent who
are likewise of Indian blood. When I
lived in the Texas Hill Country I interviewed many longtime residents who were the
progeny of Comanche captives. In fact, I
visited with a man a few weeks ago who said he is the great-great grandson of
Quanah Parker the half-European, half-Native American who was chief of the
Quahadi (antelope) band. Parker was the
son of a Comanche abductee named Cynthia Ann Parker. Perhaps you’ve heard of her.
My father’s father was born after the end of the Civil
War. He had cousins who fought for the Confederacy
and cousins who fought for the Union. My
grandfather was an adventurer of sorts, if not a bit reckless I think. When the 1910 revolution broke out in Mexico
he left his ranch (and a young wife and two little children) in South Texas and
went off to fight. In my way of thinking
there was no rhyme or reason in any of this other than what scenarios you might
imagine. After the Mexican Revolution he
returned to Texas and in 1921 my father was born. I have vague recollections of my grandfather,
other than his sky-blue eyes, but my dad used to tell me the stories my
grandfather told him. My grandfather
said that Comanche raiders would ride into Deep South Texas to plunder and
capture people. South Texas ranchers
would hide their families and oftentimes were killed fighting the Comanche. My mother’s mother told a story about a relative
who was kidnapped by the Comanche when he was a boy. Years later he was able to escape though some
time afterward the Comanche came looking for him. His siblings hid their brother and it’s a
heartwarming story indeed. In my book, The Sand Sheet I tell that story as well
as stories of a few other families who lived on isolated ranches along the
US/Mexico border.
